


A Soft Radiance

by onceuponamoon



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-05
Updated: 2011-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponamoon/pseuds/onceuponamoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, if Gerard had even noticed it was late, let alone the fact that it was <i>dark</i> outside, he probably wouldn’t be so disappointed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soft Radiance

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I read an article on cuddling before I go to sleep. I wake up going sleepy!porn! yes! Beta'd by the lovely [s0ckpupp3t](http://archiveofourown.org/users/s0ckpupp3t/pseuds/s0ckpupp3t). She is ever so awesome and encouraging.

Honestly, if Gerard had even noticed it was late, let alone the fact that it was _dark_ outside, he probably wouldn’t be so disappointed. Maybe that’s not the right word, but somewhere along the same lines. At least in the same “dis-something” family of words. Yes, he is displeased with himself.

He’d been in his downstairs studio—alternating between painting something for the gallery and sketching out panels for his newest comic idea, because the mock-ups are due early next week—working with the artificial glow of his lamps because he needed _consistency_ for his painting, or else he would’ve been in the upstairs studio with all of the windows. He designed the house’s layout this way for a reason, and he also left most of the interior decorating to Frank for a reason. They’d bickered about the studio spaces though, because Gerard is _picky_ and Frank likes for things to _match_. Gerard should’ve at least let Frank put a clock in here or something…

His stomach gurgles disapprovingly at him, upset for the lack of nutrition. He _knew_ putting the extra coffeemaker in here was a bad idea. Gerard pats at his stomach as he lights a cigarette and gathers his brushes, dripping with reds and purples and blacks. He rinses them off, watching the colors swirl against the stainless steel of the basin, and adds some ashes as he taps his cigarette against the edge. It’s actually pretty cool looking. He might try to sketch that later. With charcoal, maybe. And pens. He stubs out his cigarette in the sink and reminds himself to clean that up tomorrow.

Again, his stomach growls, and Gerard grumbles something back as he cuts the lights off and makes his way to the kitchen. It’s pretty dark in the labyrinth of halls, but the skylight from the main entry filters in enough moonlight to guide his path. _At least the moon is out_ , he thinks. Gerard’s eyes still burn from the lamps, lids glowing red even when he closes them, hindering him further on his thirty-step journey.

Gerard is grateful that Frank leaves certain lights on in the house, or else he’d totally be fucked right now. Mama and Peppers are curled up together in their Princess doggy bed, snuffling quietly when Gerard enters before flopping back down.

The light above the stove, along with the refrigerator’s glow, allows him to pull out pickles, mayo, and some of that veggie turkey that Frank likes. He slices himself off some hoagie bread and _Behold!_ culls himself a sandwich. Finally, something edible, even though Gerard really misses real meat. (“ _I’ll show you real meat_ ,” Frank would say, lewdly grabbing his crotch and waggling his tongue.) The sandwich is sustenance enough for the likes of his strict coffee-and-cigarette diet as of late. The stove and microwave clocks read way later than Gerard had been expecting, so it’s no wonder he nearly gets mayo up his nose when his eyelids begin to droop and he starts nodding off into his plate. He finishes up quickly, taking much too big of a last bite, and sways at the sink as he washes his few dishes and sets them on a towel to dry. He’ll have to put them away in the morning.

The way to the bedroom seems more difficult, even with the moonlight, because it doesn’t warn him of sharp corners or errant end tables that he manages to stub his bare toes on. There’s light seeping under the closed door to his bedroom and Gerard’s chest aches with the thought that Frank was waiting up for him. Then he cringes, remembering that they were supposed to watch the season premiere of that show on SyFy that’s pretty much an X-men knock-off and _that_ must be why he’s disappointed, or whatever, in himself. He hopes Frank at least watched it without him so he can tell Gerard how shitty it was.

Gerard turns the knob all the way to the right and eases the door open silently, aside from a few protesting creaks from the hinges. He makes a mental note to lube those up tomorrow. He shuts the door behind himself and when he turns to face the bed he can’t help but sigh.

Frank was so obviously waiting up for him. There’s a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the nightstand and Frank is slumped sideways onto his side of the bed (even though he always sleeps in the middle or curled against Gerard) and Gerard can see the light reflecting off of a small river of drool from Frank’s gaping mouth, pooling on Frank’s pillow as he approaches. Frank is still somehow wearing his big dorky reading glasses, even though they’re sort of askew, and there’s a crinkled copy of _The Catcher in the Rye_ slipping from his relaxed hand.

He looks so tiny in the middle of the mountain of pillows and sheets. Peaceful, small and vulnerable—words Gerard wouldn’t ever use to describe Frank if he was awake because that would guarantee a punch in the kidney. Gerard doesn’t coo because that would probably wake Frank.

Gerard slowly steps over, as silently as possible, and waits for an exhale to remove the thick black frames from Frank’s face and sets them on the nightstand. Then he carefully pulls the book from Frank’s loose grasp and wipes at the drool on Frank’s mouth. He folds the corner of the page, marking Frank’s spot and drops the book down on the floor. Gerard clicks the lamp off, dousing the room in a soft blue-gray moonlight that spectrally illuminates Frank’s pale skin. And that’s another sketch for tomorrow. Or maybe a new comic character: ghost!Frank. Well, he’ll have to work on that…

Tugging his pants down as he walks to his side of the bed is a decidedly bad idea, Gerard thinks as he practically brains himself on the foot of the bed. Frank still doesn’t wake even when Gerard stubs his toe on the bedframe, but as soon as Gerard starts pulling the covers back, Frank starts making a snuffly “I’ll wake up, I swear to god, I’ll do it,” noise and Gerard stills, watching. Frank’s eyebrows draw together as he mutters something. (“ _I don’t sleep talk, fucker. That’s you,_ ” he argues when Gerard mentions how cute it is.) After a few moments, Gerard slips in.

 _I shouldn’t have had that last cup_. Gerard feels the dull beginnings of a caffeine buzz humming over his skin. He sighs and shuffles closer to Frank, hesitantly sliding his arm around Frank’s middle. He doesn’t wake so Gerard pulls him slowly closer, smiling to himself because Frank would probably never admit to being manhandled this easily. And he’d _definitely_ never even _be_ manhandled this easily if he were conscious.

It is pretty nice though, because Gerard rarely gets to see Frank this way. He’s usually this tightly wound ball of expendable energy, bouncing on his toes as he tells Gerard about his day at work, so excited to be making a difference in the lives of those kids, or bounding around the backyard, playing with the dogs.

And _Jesus_ , when they’re in bed…Sometimes Gerard doubts he’ll be able to keep up. Frank is all smirking and doing all these _things_ and Gerard doesn’t even know how he can _bend_ like that. Sometimes Gerard wonders if he might have a heart attack and die before he ever gets to come. Gerard thinks he should probably get in shape sometime, he’d just really rather eat what he wants and smoke like a chimney and keep his exercise regimen confined to walking from the bed to the fridge to his studio. Whatever, Frank says he likes Gerard’s little bit of pudge.

Frank makes another snuffly noise and flails an arm out, knocking Gerard in the side of the head. After recovering, Gerard presses his lips to the back of Frank’s neck, smoothing his hand over the taut, soft skin of Frank’s bare hip. “Time’s it?” Frank garbles.

“Almost morning,” Gerard answers. He moves his nose across the textured “keep” at Frank’s nape. “Sorry, I didn’t know it’d gotten so late.”

Frank grumbles something incoherent and relaxes back against Gerard. “Pillow’s wet.”

“You were drooling.” Gerard huffs a light laugh against Frank’s skin. “Did you watch that show?”

Humming, Frank nuzzles farther backward and smacks his lips. “It was shit,” he states gruffly. Then he moves, making a frustrated noise as he untangles his arm from the sheets and reaches back to pull Gerard even closer. “You didn’t miss anything.”

“You record it?” Gerard asks, letting Frank pull his arm so that it rests against Frank’s stomach. Then he’s shifting around, trying to get comfortable and it’s providing some really nice friction for Gerard. He hums a few low notes, (the wisp of some tune that Gerard realizes is something Frank had been blasting earlier in the evening) and starts petting the hollows of Frank’s hips.

“Feels good,” Frank murmurs, shifting a bit so that Gerard will rub a little lower. “Yeah, I did.”

Gerard makes a content noise, burying his face in Frank’s hair, and then tucks his fingers below the waistband of Frank’s threadbare sweats so he can run his stubby nails through the light trail of hair. “You’re so pliant like this,” Gerard says, trying really hard to not let Frank hear the smirk.

Frank is practically purring when he retorts with a halfhearted, “Fuck you.” He cants his hips backward, lightly grinding his ass along Gerard’s lap.

“Mm, you wanna?” Gerard asks, not even trying to keep the hopeful lilt out of his voice. He trails kisses to Frank’s ear and nibbles softly on the lobe.

Making a noise like he’s considering it, Frank edges his hips backward again onto Gerard’s slowly filling out erection, grinding half-interestedly. “I have to get up early,” Frank grumbles. But when Gerard gropes downward, he feels that Frank is just about as hard as him. “’M taking some of the kids to the zoo.”

Gerard grips Frank through his sweats and strokes gently, trying to be convincing. “Promise I’ll do all the work,” he offers.

It only takes a few more strokes before Frank relents with a breathy, “’Kay.”

Gerard only does jazz hands for a split second as he turns back to rummage in the nightstand drawer for lube and a condom. Frank giggles, high and sleepy into his own wrist. Gerard sets his supplies on the bed in front of Frank and leans down to press a kiss to his bare shoulder. He slides his thumbs into the waistband of Frank’s sweats and tugs them down as gently as possible. “Gonna make it good for you, Frankie,” Gerard breathes, relocating a hand to pet over the slight swell of Frank’s ass. He presses a kiss to Frank’s neck and then slides his hands over the curling letters on Frank’s hips and stomach.

Frank makes another snuffly noise and Gerard reaches around to give him another series of slow strokes. Gerard yanks his boxers down enough to give himself a few strokes too. Then he uncaps the lube, pressing more light pecks to the soft skin of Frank’s neck and shoulders. He smells so fucking good—like that girly Jasmine and Whatever shampoo he uses coupled with his natural Frank-smell—that it makes Gerard shiver. Gerard pours a bit of lube on the fingers of his right hand and wastes no time rubbing them against the warmth of Frank’s hole. Frank makes a little gasping noise and Gerard nuzzles into his hair again.

He nudges his forefinger inside without much preamble and lifts Frank’s leg, bending it forward so that his thighs are parted. The shifting makes the soft beams of light reveal new wrinkles of the sheets and deepens the shadows of the space between Frank and the blanket. Gerard wants to sketch that too. Maybe he will, tomorrow. Frank groans when Gerard adds another finger.

Gerard scissors them, and it’s easier than normal, like Frank is too sleepy to tense up. “So fucking pliant,” Gerard marvels. Frank groans in response and Gerard crooks his fingers until he finds Frank’s spot. Frank makes a high, sharp noise in his throat. “There it is.”

Fumbling for the condom, Gerard keeps his fingers buried in Frank and his lips to Frank’s neck, right behind the Jinx Remover tattoo. “Please, Gerard,” Frank garbles. He still sounds so sleepy. Frank twists his head around, lips searching for Gerard’s in the dull light.

“Almost,” he rasps. He wipes the excess lube on his fingers onto Frank’s cock and then cups his jaw, pressing their lips together. Frank bites on Gerard’s lower lip as Gerard fits the condom on himself. “Ready?” Frank’s eyes blink open and Gerard’s breath catches in his throat because the pupils are completely blown, a combination of the darkness and the lust.

Frank nods and nuzzles his head back down beneath the pillow line.

Gerard grips the swells of Frank’s ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he slowly eases inside. They sigh in harmony when Gerard’s seated fully within. He slowly pulses his hips, stroking up Frank’s side to his chest. Gerard keeps his thrusts relatively low-impact, just sort of reveling in the squeeze of Frank all around him. He changes the angle, tilting his hips, blindly searching for Frank’s prostate, even though he can feel the way Frank’s trembling just from the slide and stretch.

“ _Yes_ ,” Frank hisses. “There, please, there, Gee.”

Gerard keeps the angle, and slowly begins to quicken the pace. He tweaks Frank’s left nipple and licks along the sweaty crease of his neck. Flattening his palm on the webbing of Frank’s chest piece, Gerard rests his forehead on Frank’s shoulder and thrusts just that much faster. “ _Ah_ ,” he breathes, really _feeling_ it. “So good, Frank. So perfect like this.”

Frank keens, and his hips jut backward, impatience and desperation winning over his tiredness. “ _Gerard_ ,” he pants. “Wanna come.” _God_ , Gerard is drowning, falling, suffocating.

Gerard trails his palm lower to where Frank is heavy and thick, leaking at the tip. Gerard coerces Frank into his grip and swivels his hips, allowing the movement to give Frank friction with his hand. “ _Uhn, yes!_ ” It takes only a few more before Frank is shuddering and twitching, so fucking beautiful in the pale moonlight as he falls apart. He spurts over Gerard’s fingers and his ass clenches all around Gerard’s cock.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Gerard gasps. He keeps his fingers closed around Frank as he bottoms out, twitching and breathing hard against Frank’s back. He groans, low gravelly, as he comes, pulsing into the condom.

After a short while of petting at each other and breathing soft words over each other’s faces as they come down, Gerard pulls out, ties the condom off as best as he can and drops it off of his side of the bed. He’ll deal with it tomorrow among all of those other things.

Because now, the easy beams of dawn are filtering in through the windows above their bed, bringing back the gentle, natural glow of Frank’s skin. He’s back to sleeping, or so Gerard thinks. But when he presses one last kiss to the back of Frank’s neck and breathes, “Love you,” so softly that Frank shouldn’t be able to hear, Frank says it back. Gerard lets his features stretch in a grin before he matches his breathing to Frank’s and lets it lull him to sleep.


End file.
